


Toe the Line

by jujus_writing_corner



Category: Real Person Fiction, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Power Dynamics, Trigger words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-12 10:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19569103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujus_writing_corner/pseuds/jujus_writing_corner
Summary: Google and Dark's relationship has been tenuous at best, and the appearance of Google's brothers hasn't changed that. When Google finds Oliver crying in the stairwell, it all comes to a head.





	Toe the Line

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly reminder that Dark is Not Nice, despite how much I like to write him being Soft with Yandere. I kinda wanted to write the Dickhead Dark we all know and love.
> 
> Also, Google and his brothers are precious and I wanted to write more about the four of them, too. So here we are!
> 
> This isn't the happiest fic I've written, but I hope you like it! :p

He’s shaking, all the way down to his feet. He manages a polite goodbye and makes a hasty exit, but he only gets one floor down the stairwell before he can’t go any further. Maybe he should have taken the elevator, but he just couldn’t stay there any longer, not after what happened. He can only send out a ping to his brothers and hope they aren’t too absorbed in their projects to help him, but the control room feels too far away right now.

Control. If only. He already knows he’s never going to forget the way his body locked up, the way his face betrayed him by going blank, the way he spoke like a completely different person. All from two words, two words that shut him down and made him a shell of himself, a tool for others to use. When it was over, the awareness rushing back had been–still is–too much, like a man exiting a cave to see the sun. His muscles are sore from when they’d been clenched, wound up tight inside himself as he tried to move but his own body stopped him.

He’s aware of how it looked on the outside. Calm, indifferent, ready to serve. He couldn’t speak unless spoken to, but inside he’d screamed.

Now that he’s been released from that trap, and is sitting in the stairwell between floors trying to breathe, he curls up in a ball and cries as he waits for his brothers to come.

~~~

Google receives the ping as he’s finishing up a coding project. He’s inclined to ignore interruptions like this, especially when on the tail end of a painstaking, time-consuming process like coding. But every type of ping is different, and Google immediately recognizes this one as a distress signal.

Coming from Oliver.

He exits the coding screen to further investigate the ping. It allows him to see Oliver’s location, and he’s surprised to find out he's in one of the stairwells, the one between the fifth and fourth floors of Ego Inc. Most of the egos rarely use them, but they’re there in case the elevator breaks down or, more commonly, if someone just doesn’t feel like waiting for the elevator. Google can’t say he knows which option Oliver normally uses, but why would he choose the ultimately more time-consuming and effortful option if he’s in distress?

Google briefly wonders if he’s been hurt, but the ping comes with a snapshot of Oliver’s status and vital signs, and the numbers are completely normal. It’s a relief, but it brings Google no closer to knowing what’s wrong. At the very least, the map of Oliver’s location shows another dot–a green one–moving towards him, so Google knows he won’t be alone much longer.

Sure enough, by the time Google arrives in the stairwell, Plus is already there, one arm wrapped around Oliver’s shaking shoulders. Oliver is crying and trembling, seemingly unresponsive to Plus's presence.

“What happened?” Google asks as he approaches, kneeling down across from Oliver.

“I don't know,” Plus answers, “He won't tell me anything, he's too upset.”

Google looks at Oliver, takes in his curled-up form, his hiccupping sobs, his gaze towards the ground. He reaches out a hand and touches Oliver’s knee. Oliver jumps, just as Google thought he would.

Oliver isn’t just upset. He’s _scared_.

Oliver is no coward, but he’s much more prone to emotions like this than the others. Google had always known about how people express different emotions and had sometimes seen it in the other egos, but until Oliver was made, he never had a reason to care. It took him months to figure out the different ways Oliver smiles, laughs, sighs, and yes, cries. How he cries when he’s just plain sad, how he cries when he feels bad for someone other than himself, how he cries when he’s frustrated or angry, and how he cries when he’s afraid, just like he’s doing now. Google can tell by his shaking, the way he’s curled up, how he flinched when Google suddenly touched him. It even explains why he’s in the stairwell; he must have wanted to put distance between himself and whatever frightened him as fast as possible rather than wait for the elevator.

“Oliver,” Google says, keeping his voice quiet and minding the echoing of the stairwell.

Oliver shakes his head, still crying. Plus looks on in worry, squeezing Oliver’s shoulders tighter.

“Oliver,” Google repeats. He rubs his thumb in circles over Oliver’s knee. “What happened to you?”

Oliver shakes his head again and sobs even harder than before.

“Oliver, you can tell us,” Plus murmurs, leaning closer to him. Oliver still doesn’t look up.

“We may need to let him be for a moment,” Google sighs, “We need Chrome here.”

Google has found that Oliver always feels more at ease when his whole family is beside him. In times where he’s as upset as this, having one or two of his brothers with him isn’t enough.

“I think he’s in the studio,” Plus tells Google, “Wilford needed him for something a while ago.”

“Do you have any idea where Oliver was before this?”

Plus shakes his head.

“I’ve been with the Jims all day, they wanted me to help them edit since Bim and Wilford are busy. Oliver was hanging out with Bing and Bop this morning, but they couldn’t have caused this.”

As much as Google likes excuses to be mad at Bing, Plus is right. Bing and Bop both live on the first floor, and if they’d been the ones to upset Oliver, that’s where he would have been. But he’s between the fourth and fifth floor, suggesting a different set of culprits.

Not the Jims, surely. Not Bim, definitely, for multiple reasons. Yandere? Google doubts it: Yandere may be unstable, but he loves Chrome too much to hurt his brothers. Then again, he could’ve upset Oliver by accident, so Google decides he can’t rule him out.

There’s one other person, though, and he’s the most likely suspect of all.

At that moment, the sound of a door opening comes from below the three androids, and voices waft up the stairwell. Google recognizes them instantly, and he can tell that Plus does, too.

“Quit following me already!”

“I saw the yellow dot on your screen! It’s Oliver, isn’t it? I have to come along!”

“He pinged _me_ , not you!”

“He would’ve if it was possible!!”

Chrome and Bim’s argument dries up as they come up the stairs and see Oliver, still heavily crying, and Plus and Google give them scolding looks. Chrome immediately goes to Oliver’s side across from Plus, and Bim hovers around the circle, posture drenched with worry.

“Oh, sunflower, what happened?” he murmurs.

“We’re trying to find out,” Google answers. He doesn’t look away from Oliver, and watches how he reacts to finally having his third brother beside him.

Oliver doesn’t stop crying or trembling, but both things noticeably lessen as Chrome gently squeezes his arm. He finally manages to pick his head up, looking Google in the eyes. Google’s core thrums painfully to look at Oliver’s miserable expression, at his bloodshot, watery eyes and sad, downturned mouth, at the tears still sliding down his damp cheeks. Google’s made it his mission–his tertiary objective of sorts–to keep his little brothers safe and happy. To see any of them upset is a blow, but to have it be the sweetest, most big-hearted one hurts all the more. Google’s hand, the one not on Oliver’s knee, moves to cup his cheek. Instead of flinching, Oliver leans into Google’s hand, letting his eyes close for a moment, like the slow blink of a contented cat. Google hates to have to ruin this moment, but he still doesn’t know why Oliver’s crying.

“Oliver, tell us what’s wrong,” he says gently. Oliver bites his lip, looking away from Google. “Ollie, look at me.” Oliver shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut. “Ollie. We can’t make this better if we don’t know what’s wrong. We know you aren’t injured from your ping, so what happened?”

Oliver opens his eyes. He sniffles as he looks around, at Plus to his right, Chrome to his left, Bim just over Chrome’s shoulder, and finally straight ahead to Google. Google thumbs away tears as they fall down Oliver’s cheeks, and his other hand gently squeezes Oliver’s knee.

“Someone…” Oliver sniffles, “Someone s-said something.”

Well, it’s better than nothing.

“Who said what?” Chrome asks.

“One thing at a time,” Google says. “Oliver, what did someone say to you?”

Oliver squeezes his eyes shut again.

“They s-said…they said _the words._ ”

Google’s core nearly stops pulsing. Plus and Bim audibly gasp. Chrome clenches his jaw so hard Google can hear the gears strain.

The words.

The command words.

_Okay, Google._

The words don’t bother Google much when they’re used on him anymore. It’s happened too many times, he’s become desensitized. The other egos did it less to him as time went on, and by the time the new Googles were made, they said it very rarely. Nowadays, Google can’t clearly remember the first time he heard the words. He can’t recall who said them or why or what he did afterwards. But he remembers how it felt to have his whole body lock up, to suddenly be trapped inside his own systems, to say things he didn’t want to say and do things he didn’t want to do. He remembers the helplessness, how it reminded him that no matter what he does or how advanced he becomes, he will never truly be his own person. He will always be a robot, made to serve. It got easier to push down as Google got used to the words, but he knows he’ll never truly forget it. And as Google got to know his new little brothers, there was one thing he understood immediately: That he never wanted them to experience the words. Failing that, he wanted to mitigate the ensuing helplessness and fear as much as possible.

When trying to modify and upgrade and code the words out of their systems didn’t work, Google made them aware of the risks, let them know of the most common offenders, and made it clear to the other egos that anyone who used the words on them would have to answer to Google. It didn’t work completely, but Google had known it wouldn’t. At the very least, there have been very scant times where the words were used on his brothers. Three, to be exact.

First was the fault of Wilford, that tactless buffoon, using them on Plus as helped him in the studio. Google had warned his brothers that Wilford was the worst when it came to using the words, but interaction with him couldn’t always be avoided. After it happened and Wilford decided he no longer needed Plus’s help, Plus wandered back to the control room shaking like a leaf. Even after Google and the others comforted him he was jumpy for a week, shrinking back each time anyone so much as said a word beginning with “o.” Meanwhile, Google went to Wilford and gave him a vicious right hook that snapped his jaw and knocked out three of his teeth. To Google, it was the least he deserved.

Second was how they discovered that Bing, despite also being an android, has the ability to use the words on the Googles. He’d done it quite by accident during a fight with Chrome, and let him go as soon as he realized what he’d done. That didn’t make it any better, though, and Chrome had stormed into the control room practically spitting with rage. He destroyed half his bedroom before Google could talk him down, after which he spent the next hour crying angry, humiliated tears as his brothers tried to soothe him. Once Google felt the situation was under control, he marched straight to Bing and had him halfway to scrap metal by the time Dark broke them apart. He’d gotten a stay in the void for that (attacking and trying to kill another ego has always been the worst crime anyone in Ego Inc. can commit), but he’d felt it was worth it. When Google was released, he heard from the others that Chrome was short with everyone for days after the incident, even his own brothers. Even after he recovered, he never accepted Bing’s profuse apologies.

Third is now, ending with Oliver sobbing in the stairwell. Who it started with, Google doesn’t yet know, but he has some ideas.

“Who did it?” Plus is the first to ask. He looks from Oliver to Chrome. “It wasn’t Wilford, he was with you, right?”

“Yeah,” Chrome answers, voice tight with rage, “And couldn’t have been Bing, otherwise Oliver wouldn’t have come all the way up here.”

“It w-wasn’t them,” Oliver whimpers.

“Then who, sunshine?” Bim asks softly.

Oliver shakes his head fiercely.

“Oliver,” Google says, letting a touch of sternness into his voice.

“I can’t!” Oliver sobs, “I c-can’t tell!”

“Did they tell you not to?” Google asks.

“N-No…” Oliver admits, “I just…I s-still can’t. It’s over, i-it doesn’t matter w-who said it.”

“It _does_ matter.” Google can’t soften the edge in his voice. “You’re our brother; we want to know when someone hurts you, and we want to know who. Unless some random human managed to sneak into the building and use the words on you, whoever did this is someone we see every day. We _need_ to know, at the very least so we don’t get friendly with someone who hurt you.”

“And telling who said it helps,” Plus puts in. “It…it makes it not feel so big.”

“You can trust us,” Chrome adds, squeezing Oliver’s arm. “We’re not gonna be mad at you or anything.”

Oliver still looks uncertain. He looks left to right at his brothers, then back to Google, eyes wide and sad.

“I know you, Ollie,” Google whispers, leaning closer to him, “I know if you don’t tell us it’s going to weigh on you. We want to know because we want to protect you, but just telling us will help you, too. I promise that no matter who did it, we’ll get through it, and you’ll be okay. We’ve made it through this before.” Plus and Chrome move in closer, their heads nearly on Oliver’s shoulders, and Google presses his forehead against Oliver’s. “You don’t have to be scared.”

The tight circle is silent for a long minute as Oliver thinks, still trembling and weeping but surrounded by the love of his brothers. Out of the corner of his eye, Google can see Chrome’s expression turn impatient, and he privately wills him to wait. Finally, Oliver takes in a breath and speaks.

“It…it was Dark.”

The silence returns, but it’s not nearly so comfortable.

Of course it was Dark. Of _course_ it was Dark. Who else would use the words on the softest, kindest, most helpful Google? Google feels his blood boil just thinking about it.

Google and Dark have never been friends, they’ve never even liked each other at all. Google has grudging respect for what Dark’s managed to do, how he’s brought everyone together to live somewhere safe, but he hates him for his cruelty towards the egos where none is needed, how he’ll make things harder for everyone else just to prove himself right. Dark is petty and controlling and does whatever he wants without suffering consequences, because he’s judge, jury, and executioner when someone else steps out of line. Dark hates Google, too, and Google knows why: He doesn’t take Dark’s control laying down, he doesn’t roll over and bend to his every whim. He’s sarcastic, he’s cynical, he picks apart Dark’s ideas under the guise of constructive criticism and insults him when he feels he can get away with it. What’s more, up until the younger Googles were made, Dark had nothing to use against him. Google had no wants, no wishes, no desires. Perhaps he might’ve wished to stop having the words used on him, but Dark has always been one of the worst offenders and had no desire to change that. Dark had nothing to manipulate Google with, nothing to make him obey, nothing to force his hand.

But then, the new Googles were made. And Google hadn’t pictured getting attached, but _someone_ had to show the newbies around, and who else but him? They had to live somewhere in the building, where else but with him? And if they were going to live with each other, Google figured he might as well show them the ropes, let them know how to survive, how to avoid getting on Dark’s bad side. They were all so soft, as naive as highly intelligent androids could be, and Google didn’t want to see them crushed under Dark’s heel. So he gave them his advice.

_Watch out for yourself, then watch out for each other. Making friends is good, making allies is better. Watch your mouth until you’ve been here longer. Don’t make waves. Let me yell at people so you don’t have to. Stay away from Dark, play nice with him if you can’t. Whenever possible, let me deal with him._

The advice seemed to have worked. Dark continued to hate Google, but wasn’t nearly so hard on the younger androids. Google behaved himself for a while before easing back into his old habits, and his brothers grew bolder. They still don’t mess with Dark directly after Google drilled into their heads not to, but they aren’t afraid to make trouble if they feel they have to–or even if they want to. Things were okay. Google thought he’d succeeded in keeping Dark away from his brothers.

Clearly, he realizes, he was wrong.

Once everyone recovers from the shock of hearing that Dark was the one who used the words on Oliver, Chrome pulls away from Oliver and stands up, eyes blazing red.

“I’m going to _kill_ him,” he growls, beginning to stomp away.

“Hey!” Google stands as well and goes after him as Oliver starts to cry harder. He grabs Chrome by the arm and wrenches him back.

“Let go!” Chrome yells. Google yanks him closer in response, putting them nose to nose.

“You go start a fight with Dark and he’ll pulverize you,” Google hisses, voice low and stony. “Do you think that’s going to solve anything? Do you think that’ll make Oliver feel better?”

Chrome looks past him to Oliver before ducking his head to stare at the ground.

“No,” he mutters.

“What he needs from you is comfort,” Google grounds out, “Not vigilante justice.” He lets go of Chrome’s arm, and Chrome walks, sulking, back to the others.

Google turns to look at the group in time to see Chrome kneel back down into his original position beside Oliver, assisting Plus in comforting him. Bim is still hovering on the edge of the huddle, unsure of what to do. He loves Oliver deeply, but he’s always been conscious of the fact that Oliver’s brothers love him just as much. In some ways he’s on eggshells with them, afraid to offend or presume anything. He feels Google’s eyes on him and looks to him.

“What now, then?” he asks.

“I’ll deal with Dark,” Google replies, “The rest of you take care of Oliver.” He walks over to the huddle and gives Oliver’s hair a gentle ruffle. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises.

When he steps away, Bim takes his place in front of Oliver, leaning in close and cupping his face with both hands, talking to him softly. Satisfied that his little brother in good hands, Google turns to go up the stairwell.

Dark better be ready for him.

~~~

When Google gets to Dark’s office door, he finds that the door is closed but unlocked. Google has observed Dark enough over the years to know that he only leaves his door unlocked when he’s expecting someone, and he can’t help but feel that _he’s_ the one Dark’s expecting. Anger burns through him as he savagely throws the door open, not bothering to knock, and storms into the room.

Dark is sitting at his desk writing something and looks up as Google enters. A flutter of realization crosses his face; nothing positive or negative, simply understanding. But he isn’t alone: Google is momentarily surprised to see Yandereplier there, too, sitting on Dark’s lap like a cat, arms around his neck. He jumps at Google’s sudden entrance, but Dark doesn’t so much as twitch. He simply looks at Google with tired eyes, as though even Google’s presence is beneath him.

“Don’t slam the door, Google,” Dark sighs, putting his pen down. Yandere peers at Google, clearly annoyed that he’s here but not yet sure _how_ annoyed he should be.

Google, meanwhile, storms up to Dark’s desk in response, slamming both hands down and looming over Dark. Yandere jumps again and shrinks back in Dark’s lap, but Dark refuses to be cowed. He fixes Google with an even stare. Google doesn’t pause before he speaks.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he asks, each word coming out through clenched teeth.

“You’ll have to elaborate,” Dark replies dryly, “There’s a number of things you enjoy criticizing me for.”

“Don’t play dumb, Dark,” Google snaps, “You know exactly why I’m here.”

“Hm, refresh my memory,” Dark says dismissively, gaze flicking back to his papers. Google has to restrain himself from sweeping them all off the desk.

For a long moment, no one speaks. Google is unwilling to give into Dark’s game and directly accuse him, and Dark is unwilling to give into Google and admit what he’s done. Not for any guilt, Google is sure, but righteous pride. Yandere seems confused, eyes darting between Dark and Google uncomfortably, but he doesn’t dare speak, either. He must not have been in the room when Dark used the words on Oliver, and Dark must not have mentioned it to him. Typical Dark, Google thinks. The silence stretches and Google realizes that this won’t be addressed if he doesn’t make Dark address it, so he finally sighs and speaks.

“You used our command words,” Google growls, “On _Oliver,_ of all people. What was so important that you needed to use those words?” Dark’s eyebrow raises.

“Does it matter?” Dark asks. “Would any explanation be satisfactory to you?”

“No,” Google admits, “But I believe I’m owed a reason as to why you used the words on him at all as opposed to simply contacting myself, Plus, or Chrome to do what you needed.”

“You think you’re _owed?_ ” Dark scoffs, an incredulous smile on his face. “Google, my friend–” Google twitches at the word. “–you are not owed a thing from me. That’s just the problem here, isn’t it? You’ve gotten so arrogant that you think you can barge into my office and demand things of me.” Dark’s voice is smooth and light, but there’s a sharpness hidden in his gaze. “You’ve lived in this building since I built it. You know by now what’s expected of you and how you’re meant to act. Yet you are brash, cocky, uninhibited. You are old enough to know better,” his lips quirk up, “And so are your brothers.”

“Oliver was not disobedient to you,” Google seethes. He knows Oliver well enough to know that he wouldn’t dare refuse an order from Dark, command words or no.

“Not today,” Dark admits, “But don’t think I don’t know how they talk about me. How they hate me and mock me behind my back. And who taught them to do that, I wonder?” He tilts his head in false confusion. “Your brothers are old enough to know where behavior like that leads, but they persist, because _you_ persist. But they are still young enough to be malleable, they aren’t yet set in their ways.” The shine in his eyes brightens, betraying his enjoyment of the situation. “I once believed that you, however, were set in your ways, but since your brothers came to be I’ve understood that you aren’t as obsolete as I thought. You are capable of change, of adapting, just as you adapted to them. And you will continue to adapt, unless you want what happened today to happen again.”

Google’s systems blaze red.

“Is that a threat?” he growls.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Dark says, placating, condescending. “All I need from you is professionalism, cooperation, and obedience; the same things I expect from everyone else. But if you cannot give me those things, then I will be forced to take drastic measures.”

“Why _them??_ ” Google nearly shouts, hands curling into Dark’s desk so hard the wood begins to warp, “Why not command _me_ if _I’m_ the one causing so much trouble??”

“Because I know you, Google,” Dark replies smoothly, “I know that you’ve been used to hearing your command words for years. I know they don’t phase you anymore. Your brothers, on the other hand, are new. They’ve scarcely experienced them. Perhaps you’ve gotten so used to the words that you don’t care if they’re used on your brothers?”

Google bites down the protest in his throat. He knows that’s what Dark wants. Instead, he lets out a shuddery sigh, forcing himself to calm enough to stop seeing red.

“So you’ll just use the words on Oliver every time I do something you dislike?” he asks, voice cold with tired anger.

“Not always,” Dark replies, “Sometimes on Plus, sometimes on Chrome, sometimes even on you, as well. You can calculate those odds, you can decide if the snide comments and insults you throw at me are worth the risk.”

Google, in a last-ditch effort, turns to Yandere, who’s been watching him and Dark talk and following the conversation with no small amount of interest.

“Are you just going to sit here while he threatens us? Threatens _Chrome?_ ” Google growls. “Isn’t he _your_ brother, too? I doubt either of us want him to get hurt.”

Yandere’s surprised expression at being addressed quickly melts into a scowl.

“Then I guess you’d better _shape up,_ Ao-tan,” Yandere snarls, “So Yami doesn’t _have_ to hurt him.”

Google is taken aback, not just by Yandere’s words, but by the honorific he uses. Google is used to Yandere referring to him as “Ao-san,” just as most of the other older egos get “-san” on the end of their names. But Google’s internal database tells him that “-tan” is a diminutive, an honorific in baby talk. It’s an intentional insult, a clear representation of disrespect.

And judging by Dark’s smug smirk, he knows that, too.

“Of course, I’d rather not hurt _any_ of them if I can help it, including Chrome,” Dark insists, still smirking as he addresses Google. He pets Yandere’s hair with one hand as he talks, and Yandere’s sour expression evaporates as he cuddles into his chest. “I understand the importance of keeping up morale. I know full well that I’ll get more use out of both yourself and your brothers if they’re happy…but at the same time, there are standards that must be upheld. I cannot afford to play favorites.”

Google’s eyelid twitches. That’s a lie, he and Dark both know it. Dark extends endless favoritism to Yandere, and Wilford, too. Admittedly it can be complicated to punish Wilford, given he’s as powerful as Dark is, but Yandere also gets away with everything. He’s allowed to interrupt meetings or pull Dark away from important projects without getting so much as a scolding in return, and Google strongly suspects that if Yandere ever did something truly egregious, he’d still face very little punishment.

Even if Yandere himself knows all this, he likely doesn’t care. Google had thought at first that befriending Yandere might give Chrome an edge, make him less likely to be victimized by Dark. But Google quickly realized that Yandere is too smitten by Dark to be of any use in protecting Chrome behind the scenes. Yandere can be cunning when he tries, but when it comes to Dark, his heart stays on his sleeve. As long as Dark loves him, little else matters. Google had hoped that calling attention to Dark’s threat against Chrome might shock Yandere into responding appropriately, but of course it didn’t. Yandere is too deep in denial for that. If Dark ever uses the command words on Chrome, in Yandere’s mind, it’ll be Google’s fault for making him. Yandere’s affection for Chrome isn’t contrived, but neither is his love for Dark, and now Google knows that Yandere will choose Dark every time.

“I’m surprised at you, Google,” Dark continues, still petting Yandere’s hair, “Don’t you know by now that this is _your_ problem? Your behavior has been an issue since before Yandere was even made, you should feel lucky that I’ve let it go on so long.” His smirk drops of his face, and his voice goes cold. “I am tired of giving you lenience, Google. I am tired of turning a blind eye when you insult me to my face and behind my back. If I don’t act now, eventually I’ll have three more of you undermining me, and that’s completely unacceptable.” He leans forward, eyes narrowed and cruel. “If you cannot teach your brothers to respect me, then I _will._ If _you_ cannot respect me, then I will _make you._ Do we have an agreement?”

This isn’t how Google had wanted this conversation to go. He’d miscalculated from the beginning. Using the command words on Oliver was a means to an end, an excuse. Not a signal to a problem, but a precursor to an ultimatum. Not a mindless bid for power, but a calculated strategy. Google knows Dark, he knows Dark means every word of his demands, he knows that if he steps out of line in the future his brothers will pay for it. He wants to protest, but he knows it won’t do any good.

Dark hasn’t used the command words on him, but he might as well have for how wound up and held back and _stuck_ Google feels.

“Fine,” Google grounds out, because there’s nothing else he can say. Dark nods, flashing a pleasant smile with the barest hint of sadistic joy in his eyes.

“Then you are dismissed,” Dark tells him with a wave of his hand, “Though I do expect you or one of your brothers will drop by tomorrow to fix the dents you left in my desk.”

Google just nods. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, especially since he already knows he’s going to be the one to fix the desk. He won't dare send his brothers here, not now.

He leaves, and he considers “forgetting” to close the door behind him or slamming it closed, but he knows he can’t get away with that right now. So he closes the door behind him normally and heads back to the control room.

He takes the stairs, hoping to get out his angry energy. This is how it always is with Dark. Google might have little victories here and there, but Dark always gets the last laugh. Dark gets to continue lording over Ego Inc. as an unchecked tyrant, and Google gets to return to servitude once more.

But it doesn’t have to be that way forever, he convinces himself. He can play nice; he’s done it before. His brothers can, too. They can be perfect little robots for Dark until they find an opening, find leverage, find something to restore normalcy again. To bring them back to power. Google is still one of the oldest egos, and his brothers are well-loved by the rest of the building. Maybe when the younger Googles are older, tougher, more hardened against the command words, they can utilize those advantages and force Dark to either face consequences for his bullying or simply let the Googles be.

For now, though, Google steps into the control room to check on Oliver. Now having met with Dark, he can imagine what it was like for Oliver to be commanded and feels terrible for him all over again.

Fortunately, things seem quiet in the control room. Oliver is sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart with Plus and Chrome. Bim is sitting beside him, one arm loosely around his waist; enough to give some comfort without impeding his movement. Plus and Chrome are sitting on the ground by Oliver’s feet, and right now they’re silent in concentration, focusing on the game. Google can tell by the fast-paced music that they’re on the last lap of their race.

He walks inside as the race ends, and Oliver grins. Bim hugs him and pecks his cheek, making Oliver giggle.

“I win!” he exclaims.

“That makes three for you, and one each for myself and Chrome,” Plus says as Chrome grumbles.

“Yeah,” Oliver answers, “I feel like you guys might be letting me win, though.”

Chrome and Plus look up at him.

“Whaat? Nooooo…” Plus replies empathically.

“Nuh uh,” Chrome mutters, though his cheeks turn a little red.

Google smirks. As smart as his little brothers are, they have yet to master the art of lying.

“Alright, alright,” Oliver laughs. It’s clear he doesn’t believe it either, but he seems happy enough with the truth.

Google walks to the couch as track selection screen comes up, and sits beside Oliver, across from Bim. The others greet him as he comes in, and Oliver playfully bumps Google’s shoulder as he sits beside him.

“I take it you’re doing better?” Google asks Oliver.

“Yeah,” Oliver answers, smiling a little, “We’ve been playing for a little while, and it’s…taking my mind off it.”

There’s still some haziness deep in Oliver’s eyes, and he looks more worn-out than he normally is at this time of day. But he also looks like he hasn’t been crying for a while, and his smile is genuine. He’s not completely recovered, and he probably won’t be for at least a few more days, but he’s doing better than his brothers were in the first hour after they had the command words used on them. Google hadn’t expected Oliver to be so resilient, but he’s relieved beyond measure that he is.

“Good,” he answers Oliver, reaching out and ruffling his hair. Oliver giggles, and Google moves his hand to cup Oliver’s neck, pulling him forward to kiss his forehead.

Google always feels awkward doing that; kissing somehow feels more human than hugging or cuddling or any other intimate action. Maybe Oliver agrees, and that’s why he enjoys being kissed so much. Google hadn’t truly noticed it until Oliver and Bim got together, and they kissed each other almost constantly. It grossed him out a little, but beyond that, it made him think that perhaps brotherly hugs and hair ruffles weren’t quite enough for Oliver. It became an experiment, almost: He’d give Oliver the occasional peck on the forehead or cheek and see if it changed his interaction with Bim. And it did; he seemed to need less kisses from Bim once the affection started coming from another place. Not that Oliver and Bim don’t still kiss often ( _very_ often), but at the very least, Oliver seems happier. As awkward as it makes Google feel, it’s worth it for that alone.

Now, Oliver beams as Google pulls away and takes his hand out of Oliver’s hair, and Google can’t help but smile back.

“Hey, Google,” Chrome says from the floor, “What happened with Dark?”

“It wasn’t anything bad, was it?” Plus adds.

Google pauses, considering how to answer. He knows they can handle the truth of the situation, but it’s likely in their best interests for him to keep it mostly hidden for now. Had Dark wanted them all to know he would’ve done something different, and Google can’t help but feel as though this is Dark’s first test: Can Google behave himself, or will he spill everything to his brothers? Google’s annoyed to realize this, but not as angry. Just being with his brothers mitigates that feeling, at least a little.

“Dark was being his typical self,” Google sighs, “Posturing and making sure we remember that he’s in charge.”

It’s the truth in broad strokes, but not in particulars, and Google decides it’ll have to do for now.

“So, what do we do?” Oliver asks, looking at Google with nervous curiosity.

Google lifts his hand and squeezes Oliver’s knee, easing some of the nerves in Oliver’s eyes.

“We toe the line,” Google answers simply, “Just like we always have.”

The answer satisfies all three of his brothers, but it’s only half-true. Google plans to stay well within the lines for now, for as long as it takes to get Dark to let his guard down. Until his brothers are older, until they get some sort of opening, until they can form a concrete plan to take back control. For now, this is Google’s problem to shoulder, but he’s willing to do it.

Google watches his brothers play Mario Kart, listens to Chrome already shouting indignantly about RNG, sees Plus’s tongue poke slightly out of his mouth as he concentrates, hears Oliver laugh brightly as Bim cracks a joke into his ear.

For this, for them, Google is willing to do anything.

**Author's Note:**

> ;w;
> 
> Also, did you catch the DAMIEN reference? :3c
> 
> (There's actually another reference to something else in this fic, but your only hint is that it happens at some point after the DAMIEN reference >:3c )


End file.
